So ******a texted me earlier this morning. We had tentatively scheduled a "session" today, but she says she's busy with stuff. I could come over in the evening, but we're still in the pandemic, so I would have no good reason to tell my parents I am leaving to go out on a Saturday night without doing something that could bring the 'Rona back home. So, we're "rescheduling." Actually, after all this, I'm not going to call ******a, at least not for a while. At one point she wanted me to see her weekly. Now, after I have been trying to reschedule day after day after day, she doesn't want to see me? I don't get it.
Maybe I should see the bright side in this. Maybe I should take this as a sign. I have been having ... thoughts/fleeting nightmares that my parents will die -- not necessarily due to COVID-19, but I can't think how my thoughts and nightmares aren't triggered by the pandemic. And it would be just my bad goddamn luck that now that we have vaccines, knowing that shots at least for my old parents are going to be available in the not-too-distant future, now that the light we can see at the end of the tunnel is accompanied by the heat of redemption we can already feel, I would fuck it up by getting the virus because I was getting a massage from a stripper and I gave it to my parents. I'm not saying ******a is a carrier or is careless, but you never know. And maybe her rejecting my massage sessions is a sign that I should keep my dick clean for, oh, two more months.
And yet I feel such ... well, it's not blue balls, but a frustration. I have been trying to set something up with ******a for some time, and I thought we would eventually be able to, and I'm ... well, I guess I'm mad that we're not. I have this urge for sexual activity, and I've been blighted, and I'm mad because I feel entitled to it. And, that's why I think I will go and get whacked off by a couple other of my stripper girlfriends to assert my manhood ... even though I might be putting my parents in danger.
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